Page 79 of When Hearts Ignite

Footsteps travel to my ears from the courtyard’s entrance. A dark umbrella slides over my head.

“Steven, come inside. We’ll find another way to talk to her. You’re drawing a crowd,” Jack murmurs in my ear as he places his hand on my sodden sleeve.

I shake my head, barely sparing him a glance. “I’m staying put. Go back inside, Jack.”

He sighs, probably knowing he won’t get through to me since this is his third attempt. “God, you’re such a stubborn ass. But who am I to argue with you? If I had a chance to win Sarah over earlier than waiting for twelve years and all it took was standing in the rain, I’d do the same thing.”

Jack releases my arm and lets out a mirthless chuckle. “At least take the umbrella?”

“I’m soaking wet already. It doesn’t make a difference anymore. Go back inside, Jack.” My eyes remain pinned on the open window at Trésor.

He mutters something under his breath and shakes his head, walking back inside the glass door of the courtyard. I see him shooing away onlookers, no doubt plying them with alcohol or other means of distraction.

“Grace, whatever you’re going through, let me help you!” I holler again, rawness scrapes against my throat.

A loud clap of thunder booms, followed by a flash of lightning, and I fight the urge to flinch as my mind drifts back to another stormy night where a little boy got his hug and innocence stolen from him.

It’s almost déjà vu. The smell of the wet air, the howling of the winds, roaring of thunder, blinding light cleaving the skies in half.

Goosebumps pebble behind my neck, and my breathing becomes labored.

This time, I don’t run away.

I stand and I fight.

My lungs heave out a deep exhale as the moments slow to a crawl. Another window at Trésor slams open, the frame hitting against the wall with a loud clang.

There she is.

Grace, with her beautiful brown hair cascading down her shoulders, her pale face somehow luminescent even in the dim light, her body clad in a white dress which makes her look very much like an angel descending among mankind from the heavens.

“Steven! What on earth are you doing out there? Get back inside.”

I shake my head, my body no longer feeling cold as a fresh burst of heat rises inside me. “You locked me out. I had no other way of getting to you. I want to talk to you,” I holler.

“There’s nothing to say. We’re not friends, we never were. Please go back inside. You’ll get sick.” She leans further out the window, and I can see the desperateness in her frame.

“No. I just need half an hour of your time, please. I’m not going to move until I can talk to you.” My hand swipes at the water pelting my face. “You know I’m an asshole when I want to be. I’m not going anywhere.”

She stares at me as emotions flit across her face, too quickly to name. She gnaws on that plump bottom lip of hers again. The seconds pass as we stare at each other, neither of us backing down. I fist my hands before slicking my wet hair away from my face.

She throws her hands in the air. “You stubborn man!” Grace whirls around and disappears from view.

Moments later, the courtyard door swings open, and she slowly walks toward me, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Rain continues to pour from the skies, quickly soaking her hair, running down her face, pelting against her dress.

She looks so beautiful.

So much my heart clenches and my lungs seize.

The heat from earlier resurges and spreads to my extremities as I watch her stride toward me, a long expanse of smooth thigh showing with each step.

Grace comes to a stop a foot in front of me and stares at me with those penetrating, soulful eyes. Her plush lips part and I can hear the faint sounds of her panting over the storm. She swallows, her elegant throat rippling. “I’m here now. What do you want to talk about?”

For a few seconds, I’m robbed of speech, the beating in my chest a frenzied rhythm, my nerves coming alive in anticipation of her being so close to me again. My fingers twitch with an urge to grip her arms and pull her to my chest so I can bury my head against her neck where the scent of jasmine is the strongest.

But we just stare at each other in silence, the pitter pattering of the rain as the backdrop. She’s fully soaked through now, just like I am, and my nostrils flare at the sight of her dripping wet in front of me, like a goddess walking out of the water.

My gaze holds hers, my mouth unable to form words because there’s too much I want to say and yet I suddenly can’t find the language for them.

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